Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Villanelle: Cowered Crushed Cramped Cold In the Pit of Our Stomachs
Villanelle: Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs We drag our ego thrones saddled on stooping lean backs Fiendish liege Lords’ furnace mouths whiplash at run amoks None can bear the thought shrunken image left on dry docks Unconsoled by doctoral degrees or skills won on bent backs Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs The terrifying shame of being left to rot on torrid tarmacs The will to keep going in the face of spites and silly smacks Fiendish liege Lords’ furnace mouths whiplash at run amoks Les mille vices and pin-pricks we put up with as decoy ducks While His Majesty Liege Ego rides in pomp pitfalls on tracks Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs All mere paying passengers grovelling on groaning stomachs No tenant fit to reign in his own fiefdom his baggage unpacks Fiendish liege Lords’ furnace mouths whiplash at run amoks He who runs not with hares but howls with hounding packs Is he content to walk straight smile strung on lips and locks Cowered crushed cramped cold in the pit of our stomachs Fiendish liege Lords’ furnace mouths whiplash at run amoks © T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Copyright © 2024 T Wignesan. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs